


Crashing like waves

by Buckybeardreams



Series: The Classifieds [30]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Classifications, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Littles Are Known, Non-Sexual Age Play, Wetting, alternate universe - classifications, daddy!Phil, little!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckybeardreams/pseuds/Buckybeardreams
Summary: Clint drops in the motel room, while away on a mission.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Phil Coulson, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: The Classifieds [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898527
Kudos: 67





	Crashing like waves

It was windy and blustery outside. The rain could be heard pounding on the roof and the ocean waves were crashing off in the distance. Natasha sighed shutting the sliding door that lead to the balcony. She glanced back at Clint. He was watching the gas burning fire flickering behind the metal grate.

The door to the motel room opened and Phil walked in, stripping off his wet coat and hanging it on a hanger. He kicked his shoes off, leaving them by the door. Phil sighed, eyeing the dripping wet coats dumped on the ground and the shoes scattered across the room.

"You guys could at least hanging up your coats." He said, picking them up off the floor.

Natasha rolled her eyes. Clint just shrugged and held his palms up to warm them. Phil sighed again, hanging the coats up.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Clint asked, his voice almost a whine.

Natasha observed him, a knowing look in her eyes. She caught Phil's eyes.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink at the bar down the street. If Maria gets in contact, let me know, and I'll be back in two minutes." Natasha said.

Clint glanced up at her.

"I'll come with you."

"Not this time, птичка." Natasha said, giving him a smile.

He pouted as she ruffled his hair, and batted her hand away.

"I'm not Little." He grumbled.

Natasha didn't respond, slipping on her coat and boots, before heading out the door.

"How are you doing, Clint?" Phil asked.

The Caregiver sat down on the ground next to him and pulled him into his side. Clint huffed, but laid his head on Phil's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Phil. I'm just- shit, I don't know."

Phil rubbed his arm.

"You haven't dropped in a couple of days." He commented.

He wasn't being judgmental or pushy, merely stating a fact. His voice was soft, quiet, like he was afraid that Clint would break, if he spoke too loud. Clint clenched his jaw. He hated it.

"So what? It shouldn't matter. I go on missions all the time. I spend weeks away sometimes. It shouldn't matter." He said, defensively.

"I know that. I'm not doubting your abilities, love. I'm just letting you know that I'm here to catch you, if you fall. If you want to let go, I'll keep you safe, Clint."

Clint knew that Phil was just being sweet. It didn't change the fact that his words and the way he could stay calm and composed, regardless of the situation, annoyed Clint. He felt so much smaller around Phil. Like they weren't really equals. Like they never could be, because Clint was emotional and reactive, so fucked up from his past and unworthy of the unconditional love and support that Phil offered him.

He was just some stupid Little, who fell apart, because, because... God, he couldn't even think it. He tried to blink back tears that stung at his eyes. He felt so pathetic.

"Clint, hey, look at me. It's okay. You're allowed to break down. You can be upset about this. You haven't allowed yourself to cry about it, but there's nothing wrong with that. He's your bestfriend."

Clint shook his head. He wasn't Bucky's bestfriend. Steve was. Natasha was Clint's bestfriend. 

"No, he's not." He denied.

Phil leveled him a look that infuriated Clint. It only made him feel that much smaller.

"He is, when you're Little. You're Little friendships matter just as much as your Big ones, baby. There's nothing wrong with caring about Bucky."

"Stop. I don't want to talk about this." Clint groaned.

He pushed himself into Phil's lap, crashing their lips together. Phil let him, but didn't open his mouth, when Clint licked at his lip. Clint whined and bit his bottom lip, frustrated.

Phil sighed, and pulled back. He ran a hand through Clint's hair. Clint frowned at him. He nipped at his jaw, kissing down his neck. Phil knew he was looking for a distraction, but he wasn't willing to do this, not right now. He knew Clint was teetering on the edge. Floating somewhere in between his headspaces and not fully able to be one or the other.

"Clint, I love you, but we can't." He said, when Clint tried to claim his lips again.

"Dammit! Why not? Why can't I just have this, Phil? I'm not Little. I promise." Clint said, his voice starting out hard, but sounding little more than a whine by the end.

"I didn't say you were, baby." Phil murmured, pressing a kiss to his head.

"Then, why?" Clint whined, clutching Phil's shirt in his fists.

"I think you know why."

"I don't." Clint said, stubbornly.

He did know. It wasn't the first time Phil had stopped him. It wouldn't be the last, either. He was just as offended everytime. Though, this was one of the reasons that he trusted Phil wholeheartedly. The man had never taken advantage of him before. Even when Clint was emotional and vulnerable, and begging him, or upset and angry and demanding that it wasn't fair.

Phil was often lenient with Clint, especially when he wasn't Big, but Phil never crossed this line. When Clint got upset about it, Phil insisted that this was one of the ways that he protected him. One of the ways that he kept their relationship equal. Clint could respect that, even if, in the moment, he tended to not like it.

"You do. I won't do this now. Not like this, Clint. Come on. I'll run you a bath. You're all sandy still."

Clint pouted. He wanted to throw himself on the ground and scream until he got his way, but he knew it would only prove to Phil that he was too Little. Phil stood up with Clint in his arms. Clint watched the waves outside the window get smaller, as Phil walked towards the bathroom. He set Clint on the ground, plugging the tub and turning on the faucet.

Clint rolled his eyes.

He was more than capable of running his own bath. He didn't really care that Phil was doing it. He wasn't really annoyed with Phil, afterall. He was annoyed with himself. Clint jumped up onto the counter, crossing his arms stubbornly, when Phil raised a brow at him.

"What?" He snarked.

"I didn't say anything. Do you want me to stay with you?"

Clint narrowed his eyes at him.

"I'm not Little." He snapped.

Phil nodded.

"Alright. I'm gonna go make some food, then."

He kissed Clint on the cheek, before leaving the bathroom.

Clint slumped back against the wall. He squirmed a little. He wished Phil had stayed. He would have been annoyed, if he had, though. His feelings were complicated. He hated it. He was constantly fighting between wanting to cling to Phil, and wanting to push him away. It was that much harder now. Everything that had happened with Bucky, was weighing on him. He had tried so hard to suppress it. To push it to the back of his mind and not think about it.

Now, the feelings were welling up inside of him. He wasn't sure he could hold them back any longer. The tub was getting full. He pushed off of the counter to turn the water off. His eyes widened. He felt that telltale sign of his bladder demanding release. The toilet was literally five feet away, but it was too late. He froze as pee soaked his underwear and ran down his legs.

That was the last straw that sent him over the edge.

The tears fell, hot and fat as they rolled down his cheeks, his socks squished under his feet as a puddle formed on the tiled floor and he opened his mouth to scream.

"Daddy!"

Phil heard the sound, nearly slicing his finger as he dropped the knife in his hand. It clattered onto the countertop, next to the abandoned chopping board. Phil threw open the bathroom door. His eyes scanned the room, quickly assessing the scene. The first thing he did was shut off the water. The tub was about to overfill. Then, he turned to Clint and crouched down to his level.

"Shh, it's okay, little bird. Daddy's right here." He said, his voice calm and soothing.

Clint sobbed, collapsing into him. Trusting one hundred percent that his daddy would catch him. Phil held him close, even though he was now getting wet himself. He murmured comforting words, until Clint had stopped sobbing. When his cries had turned to sniffles, Phil pulled back.

"Let's get you in the bath, baby."

"No' baby." The Little insisted, looking like he might start crying again. 

"I know. You're my big boy. Don't worry, Clint. It's just an accident. No big deal. Let Daddy help you."

Clint pouted, but nodded. He let Phil strip the wet clothes off of him, and help him into the bath. Phil had to drain a little bit of the water, before Clint could get in. Clint stared down at the water as he sat with his knees up. He hugged his knees to his chest, dropping his head to his arms.

"I'm sowwy, Daddy. I- da potty was wight der, but I-I-" The toddler stuttered, sobbing.

"Shh, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not mad. I promise. Lift up your head, baby."

Clint picked his head up to look at Phil.

"I have something that might cheer you up, but you have to promise me you'll keep your head up, while I grab it." Phil said.

The chances of the agent drowning in the tub, were next to none. The weeping toddler in front of him, wasn't in any position to have any kind of responsibility put on him. It was that thought that had Phil changing his mind.

"Never mind. Come here, little bird."

Clint blinked, but let Phil scoop him up. His suit was soaked, and Clint was dripping as Phil walked into the motel room. He didn't really care. He kneeled down on one knee, settling Clint on his leg, so he could dig through his bag. Clint eyed the bag curiously. He could see his stuffie, and whined.

"Shh, you're okay." Phil quieted him.

He found what he was looking for, and Clint's eyes lit up.

"Boat!" The Little said, excitedly, making grabby hands for the toy.

Phil chuckled and handed it to him, standing back up. He settled Clint back into the tub, and the kid set the boat in the water. The small toy lit up, casting colors across the surface of the water and started to propel itself forward.

Phil grabbed a wash cloth. He was extra gentle scrubbing the boy, since the wash cloth wasn't made for sensitive skin, like the ones they had at home and at the tower. Phil pulled Clint out, despite the toddlers protests, when the water ran cold. He pulled the plug, before drying Clint off and wrapping him up in the towel, as best he could. The bath towel wasn't as large as the ones they had.

He dropped the wet clothes into the tub, and scooped Clint up into his arms. Clint squirmed out of his arms, as they entered the motel room and ran to Phil's bag, pulling Hawkeye, his purple hawk stuffie, out. Phil coaxed the toddler into a pull-up, that he'd brought, just in case, and comfy clothes. They weren't technically Little clothes, but they would have to do. Phil settled Clint on the bed, turning on the TV. He was glad he'd brought a roku stick with them, so he could play paw patrol for him.

Phil tucked the knife off the counter away, grabbing a plastic bag to stuff Clint's wet clothes in, before taking a quick shower. Dressed and clean, he snuggled up in bed next to his little boy.

"Look Daddy, it's Skye!" Clint said, pointing to the puppy on the screen.

"Woah! So cool." Phil said, kissing his damp hair.

Clint always got excited when Skye appeared, because of his sister, Skye. It was pretty cute. Phil was just glad that the boy had dropped, even if the circumstances wasn't the greatest. He knew that Clint needed this. Phil texted Rollins. He wasn't as good a shot as Clint, very few were, but Natasha could make do with him and Rumlow, if need be.

For now, Phil would hold his baby close. Clint needed this, and quite frankly, Phil needed this, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Птичка (ptichtka) - little bird
> 
> I didn't finish the story that I wanted to post this week, but I'm at the beach, and I wrote this small piece instead. Hopefully that makes up for it
> 
> As always thanks for reading, leaving kudos and commenting!
> 
> You can always chat with me about the series or leave asks on my tumblr @BuckyBearDreams


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